The Calling
by Raynidreams
Summary: Kara and Leoben, Demetrius.


"I hear her voice... it's as clear as a bell. She's calling my name, so lost within the darkness,' he breathes, voice reverent. However, when their stares remain blank, he is forced to say more plainly, 'I must go to her."

"We're standing at the precipice of total destruction and you, our dear brother, must go?" A Six demands of him, her hands fisted to her hips.

"He must. We've felt what he feels and it's a truth we could never have dreamed of. He must leave now, before it's too late," another Two speaks for him as some of them stand behind in support.

"Too late? We're all dead unless we can find some way out of here, and _he_wants to go tearing off after that... that human?"

"You have no idea... no idea what she is! He's shown us she's important, just as important as the child Hera," his brother continues for him.

It's still a shock at times that none but he can see past the broken human visage she wears to the light that lives beneath.

"For God's sake, your obsession with that pilot goes too far!" yells the Six, and for the first time Leoben begins to feel faintly murderous towards one of his own kind. He chokes it down, refusing to become like that. He's better than the petty displays of bitterness he sees brandished about here; better than the waves of jealousies and lust given off by the rest.

"So you're going to run off? Just like that? In a damaged Heavy Raider? Head out into nowhere and find _Galactica_?' This sarcasm comes from another Six as she sidles up to her sister's side. 'Even if, and it's a big if, you do find the fleet - something we've struggled to do for years, they will blow you right out of the sky before you can even shout her name."

"And maybe it'd be good riddance," an Eight puts in quietly, looking down.

The Twos behind him stiffen and trade looks. He doesn't openly acknowledge what is going through their heads, for he shares the same thought - they're beginning to turn on each other, just as the Ones did on them all, just as the Fours and Fives followed suit.

"Brother, you should go quickly," is whispered from behind him and he nods in reply.

The Sixes and the Eights were directionless and running scared. It was only so long before the threat of death would have them destroy all that was left.

But he wants to explain before he goes, wants them to hold on to hope. "Kara is not with _Galactica_. She's left the fleet and is so far away that only I can see her now. I will find her, I promise."

"Brother, don't take this the wrong way, but you're insane," the initial Six scoffs, gesturing with her hand for the others to join in. Surprisingly the only one who does is Leoben himself. He laughs, full throated. It's initially bitter sounding in response to their cynicism, but only to become lighter as it couples with the fond memory of her saying the same words to him.

The Sixes and Eights back away slightly, looking unsure. Maybe he is mad. Whatever the case, he wants to address their fear.

"You must listen to me!"

"Must?' The Sixes laugh then shakes their heads. 'No brother."

His temper rises against his better judgement, "You're all blind, every single one of you! How can all the clarity of your models have ended up in so few individuals; in Athena, Caprica… Boomer?"

"Boomer! She betrayed all of us!" the Eight snaps, her usually soft mouth turned down tight.

"Perhaps, but rightly or wrongly, she was also thinking for herself. When have any of the rest of you had a single moment of individual thought? Of want? Of need? Of love?"

They don't take that well and their hostile front is back.

"Go, go then. Go and leave us all to rot in hell, if that's your wish!" the most talkative Six snaps and the other women nod in agreement.

"It's not my wish to leave you... it's my wish to save you. Kara Thrace is our only hope, and I will find her. She's waiting for me."

He looks at them a moment longer, willing his faith into them but they remain unmoved. The hand of a brother settles on his shoulder and knows that he's done all he can here. It is time to leave.

* * *

><p>Kara hands the chart to Helo, scratching at the flakes of paint coating her skin. They peel off, fluttering to the floor like the shell of a chrysalis. As the papers and paint leave her hands, she couldn't have pictured how she looked to him, how her face appeared both hopeful and fractured; over bright and yet tarnished. She has no real chance of being able to connect with his assessment either, for she's not really there in the room with Karl. Her mind is somewhere else and he knows it. He begins to echo the others' fear that she's going mad.<p>

Karl doesn't look want to look at the chart at first, only her, but after she hovers, he realises that this is the only tangible thing between her and the rest of them, and so does. He makes noises over the place she suggests while at the same time trying to see inside this distracted stranger for his friend. As he speaks, she brushes off his concern that they've been there before and instead drops down to write something in a book only to seem to lose the thread of why she's bothering to do so.

Helo watches, unable to conceal the worry firming his mouth as he asks her about herself instead of the location. She's so far away that she's unable to see his apprehension and replies vaguely, wondering why his thoughts are about her when they should be about Earth. The pattern is there, the picture is in her head. Why the others can't feel it is an enigma: it's so powerful.

_They just can't,_ she whispers to herself; _they can't see it and so they can't understand._

Even as she thinks it, she ponders perhaps that it's because it's not what it was. Even to her, each day the sound and feel becomes more of a distant glimmer; just that little bit further out of reach.

"If I could just focus, I know that I can find that sound again," she tells him instead.

Karl remains still as she walks away, her hunting inside for more evidence that the stars are out there.

She turns back and he goes to leave.

All of a sudden, something whispers to her. Something is outside now. Kara brushes it aside. She's the Captain, her place is here. Then it comes again, more urgent and desperate. She needs to get out; to go and personally see the blackness beyond. It's a strange feeling, but one she can't ignore.

_Maybe now's the time… maybe now it will be clear._

An instant later and she's sure that this is the way as she hears her name being called from a distance.

'_Kara...'_

It's all the confirmation that she needs to get out, to go and look for herself because it's not Helo's voice in her head. It's not Sam's, or anyone's aboard this ship. It comes from much further away and it hits deep into her core like no other's can.

For the last month she's felt like she was standing at the sheared top of a stone outcropping, about to be swallowed by the sea unless she can learn to swim back to that distant shore. Now, in this moment, there is a spec on the horizon offering her hope. Someone is coming through the water to help guide her there.

It's all flowing into streams and rivers.

'_Kara...'_

There it comes again, like a siren call in her head, but she knows in her soul that it's not going to dash her against the rocks... because she feels that something has already and she's beyond that kind of hurt now.

'_Kara...'_

"Hold up… I think I'll go with you on this one," she yells to Helo's departing back.

"You haven't flown CAP since leaving the fleet?" he replies, unable to hide his incredulity.

It does not change her intent. It's what she needs to do, to fly... to learn how to navigate the tides back onto the right course.

* * *

><p>Out there they both wait. Leoben is floating, his ship having lost all capabilities save warmth and a little air. Kara is flying, directionless and yet true, ignoring the calls from her fellow pilot… just waiting.<p>

He knows the instant she appears, the instant that she's close enough. He's sitting in the pilot's chair of the Raider, hurting and dragging on the last of the oxygen, shamefully thankful that the ship itself is dead for it couldn't take any for itself. If it'd of been alive, then they'd have both been dead by now. He takes one huge breath, bringing the radio near to his mouth to call for her…

She hears and asks if it's him just by repeating his name.

She could kill him now just as easy as anything. She could truly put him down by one press of a button and there'd be no coming back. However, this time, he knows for sure that she's willing to listen.

"I'm alone…" he says just as in his heart he knows that so is she. They're all around her, but only she knows the true path and that makes her alone too.

* * *

><p>She marches ahead, not seeing the ship as she shifts through the grim corridors. Her mind's in one place, picturing one image and she <em>has<em>to show it to him. She doesn't look back as she walks, she simply feels him behind her, breathing in the same metallic air with its industrial scent of grease and iron. She's long since stopped noticing the cess pool they're in, for it doesn't matter. Now doesn't matter. Only the way ahead did.

At the door to her cabin, she unhooks the lock and finally spins to face him. He is sweating and it runs down his face. She's coated in it. It's like they've both been running in a race to get here.

The two marines are still holding him tight, but they're not really there with them in the corridor, in this moment. Here, there's only him and her; tormentor and the tormented. Only she can't now place who is who anymore; the positions have twisted and turned so often that perhaps it doesn't really matter anyway.

"I have to show you… you have to see," Kara whispers, taking a backwards step and drawing him forward.

"Captain…?"

Kara blinks, not really hearing.

"Captain Thrace?"

Her eyes unlock from his and surprise ghosts her features at finding the others still there.

"Lose the cuffs… let him go," she orders. Her voice isn't firm and it isn't focused. Even so, she is the Captain and they do as she bids.

Like her, he doesn't look at the guards or even feel them as they unhook the cuffs with wary frowns.

He's free.

Kara steps back further and he follows blindly.

"I don't want to be disturbed," she manages to say before the cylon shuts the door in their shocked faces.

Alone together her body slumps and he lurches forwards to catch her face.

"Tell me… tell me what it is that you see and I can help."

It's not an order, it's a plea.

Kara reaches and pulls his hands down, dragging him with her over to the bed, but not down on it. Standing, she lifts their joined hands up until at the last she breaks away to point at her painting.

"There… I need, we need, to be there."

Leoben studies the painting; it's so raw and vibrant. It screams both violence and peace. He then looks down to study her properly. She's the same as before but not the same, for now she's shining like the sun; like a thousand suns and he can't escape the fire. He doesn't want to.

"You hear it don't you? The song, the pull… it calls to you and you long to go to it."

"It was so clear before… but now, the details are shifting… the sound of it, the shape of it…" Kara shakes her head looking frantic.

As much as many might think it, he doesn't like to see her like this; this unsure.

He reaches down and takes up one of her encrusted brushes. He holds it out, handle first allowing the paint on the brush to smear his palm.

"Take it, show me and together… together we can find it."

Kara's hand slides over his and she turns up to her picture with hesitation. She fears marring the battle of lines and swirls with more paint, for the perfect picture's in her head and what has been drawn by her hand is an imperfect, shaking extension of the image in her mind. She's terrified of spoiling what she's painstakingly done already before he can truly see it and show her what it means; the painting is a shade of a real thing. Something which she knows lies outside of these walls, somewhere within the distance of space. That which is calling to her even now.

She feels warm fingers around her forearm, gentling her fear, calming her shakes.

"Trust in yourself to find the truth Kara. I know you can."

His face settles with joy into the back of her hair, relishing at the feel even though it's dirty and matted. He doesn't care; he's never seen her look more beautiful.

Kara supports her body by placing her other hand on her hip and his closes over the top, supporting her further.

"I believe in you," he mutters and her hand steadies, crafting the melody into form.


End file.
